


G.U.Y

by hyperphonic



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, I promise, Post canon, Pre Canon, but in a coherent way, really it's all over the map
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperphonic/pseuds/hyperphonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy gulped, and closed his eyes as her lipstick smeared crimson against his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	G.U.Y

**Author's Note:**

> this is set all over pre-canon, canon and post-canon, so if you don't remember a certain scene happening in the manga, then it probably didn't(;

I.

Riza wasn't exactly sure when she had started to think of the Colonel so… lasciviously. Wasn't sure when the broad line of his shoulders had become a fixture in her mind, or when the flat plane of his hips made her throat go dry. It certainly hadn't been that way in Ishval, or the summer soaked days of their youth together. All her memories then focused on the sharp line of his jaw and the slant of his grin- never caught on how it'd feel to have him press her down.

Surely something must have changed after their station in the East. It made sense too, she'd known him so long, loved him so dearly as a young woman, it stood to reason that working so closely with him and his rolled up shirtsleeves would do her in. East Headquarters' summers were notorious, after all, and their office was stuffy (his forearms would flex as he wrote, damp bangs hanging over rough documents as she struggled to focus).

And now that they'd been working together so long it was impossible to ignore.

"Lieutenant?" He inquired one sweltering day, bobbing throat clearly bared by his unbuttoned uniform shirt. "Is something the matter?" The blonde swallowed thickly, one sweaty palm rising to push her bangs back. "No, sir." Nothing was the matter, she only wanted to- _pull him down on top of her_ \- finish their work and retreat back into the shade.

"Here's your next set of documents."

II.

Nothing was as simple sexual desire in their world of convoluted laws. So when Riza realized that she wasn't simply _lusting_ after her Colonel it was a little hard to be surprised (but that didn't mean she hadn't tried). He'd seen her at her most vulnerable, traced the curse upon her back with reverent hands, it was only logical that he'd stolen her heart while she was at it.

Somewhere along the way though she'd taken his too; perhaps on one of the too hot nights where he woke screaming of Ishval, or somewhere farther back before there was blood and sand beneath their fingernails. Whatever the case, Hawkeye could no longer say that she was only interested in losing herself to the strong heat of his touch (it was _so much more_ than that now).

Although, she mused one day as the dark man ran his lips over her hipbone, that wasn't to say that she'd lost any desire for his attention. "We have ten minutes, sir," she gasped, voice urging him past the taught space between her leg and core. "Roy." He corrected, nipping lightly at the tendon before moving on towards her damp heat. "If it's only us please call me Roy."

And who was she to deny? _Especially_ when his lips found her clit so succinctly.

III.

"Now." She growled, pulling him down by the ties of his thick wool pants. "Touch me." Beneath her the hard, sparse mattress creaked in protest as he readily complied, hips surging to rest against her own while gloved hands made quick work of her shirt. "I thought you'd never ask," he purred against her ear, the low timbre of his voice shooting straight to her already burning core.

His stay in the hospital had been long, long enough for the heat in her gut to steadily grow until it felt like fire in her veins. Hot lips pressed against one peaked breast, working wet through the thin fabric of her sports bra. Riza groaned, and struggled fiercely to work a hand out from beneath his chest, grinning desperately when she was able to curl her fingers around one thick wrist. "Touch me," the blonde commanded, placing his palm over the junction of her legs. "Don't be sweet."

(The excited growl he released into their kiss almost made her come right there.)

IV.

"Roy," she called from her perch in the back of his car. "Stop the vehicle." Dark eyes met her own in the rear view mirror, and it took the Colonel all of three minutes to pull into a side alley and clamor into the rear with her. "You sure?" He confirmed, the whiskey on his breath mingling with the gin on her own.

"Have I ever been anything else?" She asked as he pulled the slinky skirt down her legs and pressed two fingers past her already soaked panties.

"Never," came his breathy response, followed soon after by a cry from Riza's lips as her head fell back under his touch.

VI.

Roy hated missions like these. Hated watching as his Lieutenant ( _lover_ ) donned black silk like battle armor and ruby lips like war paint. He hated the way the other men watched her and hated even more how their pig of a target fell to her hand. He knew she'd be fine, knew Havoc was stationed in the back alley she was leading him to. But still, it was counter-intuitive to let her lead a man so obviously vile (and aroused) out of the public eye.

However, when the band continued to play (his tuxedo continued to suffocate) and she re-entered the room, the rush of his heart was worth it. "Havoc is cleaning up the mess. Falman, Breda and I are pulling out," his earpiece crackled, completely overshadowed by the blood pounding in his ears to the beat of Riza's sashay. Partygoers eddied around in her wake, and Roy wondered if the black linen of his pants was enough to hide how much he wanted her.

Thin hands came to rest just beneath his navel, and the blonde leaned up to whisper against his ear, "we've still an hour before they expect our report." Roy gulped, and closed his eyes as her lipstick smeared crimson against his throat.

VII.

"Fuck," he gasped against the junction of her shoulder and neck, sweaty bangs clinging to sun-soaked skin. His hips rocked fast and urgent against her own, and Riza couldn't help but cry as he brought one hand down to rub hard against her clit. "Jesus Riza," his voice was rough and dry as the Central summer, pressing her down into the mattress even more than his muscled frame ever could. Blunt nails dug into his back, raking down as she drove her hips up against his length, "Roy, more."

He complied, and they were both lost.

VIII.

Wet lashes tangled together at the corners as Riza blinked up at him, lips pulling into a bright smile. "I love you," she purred into the thick, steamy air of his shower; brown eyes rich with color as he moved languidly inside her. "I thought you just wanted me for my body," Roy teased, deep voice fluctuating with barely suppressed laughter as he bent to kiss her, hips angling deeper still. The blonde smiled into the kiss and moved to tangle her fingers in his hair, grinning brightly as they pulled apart to breathe. "Well that's definitely a perk," she quipped before nipping lightly at his pulse. "But it's a nice perk, right?" He chuckled as he readjusted his grip on her ass.

"It could be worse," Riza teased even as her breath began to fall short under his driving thrusts.

VIIII.

"Take off your pants," Roy panted as he pressed her into the mattress of his hospital bed. Riza could feel his heart pounding above her, and the sterile white of the third research institute still stung in her eyes ( _the same way the bruises ringing her throat hung in his eyes like retina burns_ ) - so instead of quipping a bright "that's my line", she rushed numb fingers to the clasp at her waist.

Things were changing, and they didn't have much time at all.

X.

When Roy regains his sight, Riza is the first to congratulate him, throwing clothes and conduct aside as she rushes into his corded arms. "It won't be long now," he purrs into her hair when they're done. "Grumman's promised an end to the fraternization laws." Her heart races against his chest, a clear counter to the lazy staccato it had been beating before. "And then I'd like you to be my First Lady."

Riza grins against his throat, and Roy's hands trace familiar patterns up her back as they lay together in the bright spring sun. "If he comes through, you won't have to sacrifice position or protection," happy tears fall soft against his skin. "And I won't have to sacrifice _you_."

He tilts her chin up softly, and they both feel the weight of years spent sneaking around beneath outdated laws lift from their shoulders.

XI.

Grumman comes through, and the two are married a month later, wedding bells ringing clear through the heavy summer air. Roy's hands are all over her as they stumble into his ( _their!_ ) apartment, relishing the slant of summer sun as they kiss before the open windows, ardent and joyful and no longer hidden deep within the shadows of their ribcages.

"I've wanted to kiss you in the sun for so long," he confesses against her clavicle, numb fingers struggling to unlace the back of her intricate bodice. "I know," Riza replies before lending her aid.

In the end, his lips fall against her skin right there in the foyer, slowly tracing down between the valley of her breasts as they stand in the sun. It is July and they can hear the laughter and light of civilians beneath the window, gaily voices mixing with their soft pants as he finally finally gets the entire dress to drop from her frame.

"Shit," he swears reverently, before sweeping her into his arms and making for the bed.


End file.
